No More Waiting, She Chooses Love novel Chapter 438

Ernest and I moved into the room next to Yates' room.

Truth be told, it wasn't about wanting to stay at an inn for me; it was more about getting the scoop on whether Fanny would spend the night.

Ernest and I had barely stepped into our room when we made a beeline for the balcony, eager to catch any hint of gossip. Before we could even fully step out, we caught the tail end of Yates' voice, "Babe, have you ever thought about making a move abroad? With your skills, you'd flourish just as well, if not better."

Peeking over, I saw Yates wrapping his arms around Fanny, both of them leaning against the railing, lost in the vibrant nightlife.

"I haven't really thought about it, at least not until today," Fanny's voice was softer, a sharp contrast to her usual no-nonsense demeanor as Dr. Willis.

"Would you consider it, though?" Yates pressed gently.

Fanny didn't respond immediately, which prompted Yates to add, "If you're open to the idea, I could help set things up for you over there."

"Senior," Fanny called him, "have you ever considered coming back to develop your career?"

"...No," Yates' hesitation was palpable, but his resolve was clear.

Fanny nestled closer to him, asking, "Why not think about coming back?"

"I've built my career abroad, and it's not just any career; it's an international one," Yates' tone carried a mix of pride and superiority, but it was clear he wasn't bragging to Fanny; he was stating facts.

"You're internationally recognized, which means your location doesn't tie down your achievements," Fanny paused before adding, "Yates, my family, my network built over the years, and my friends are all back home."

Her words tugged at my heartstrings.

This girl, she values her relationships, not just blindly following love.

Not willing to abandon everything for the sake of love.

"I know, and I'm not insisting you leave. I'm thinking about our future together. If we get married, we need to be together," Yates whispered, nuzzling Fanny's ear.

I realized then that men have their little quirks; Ernest likes to pinch my waist, while my ex, Conrad, used to squeeze my cheeks.

Yates made his intentions clear—they would need to compromise if they were to marry.

"It's PG-rated," he joked.

I couldn't help but laugh, "I just wanted to see if their way of expressing love as intellectuals was the same as ours."

Ernest frowned, "They're intellectuals, and we're not? Then what are we? Or what am I in your eyes? A roughneck?"

My offhand remark had him overthinking things.

Alright, men can be sensitive and petty too.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" Ernest fixed his gaze on me, demanding a definition.

Looking at his rugged features, I honestly replied with two words, "Tough guy."

His eyebrows instantly furrowed. "Tough."